


Back On The Road Again

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, resurrection fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-01-31 20:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12689805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: John wakes up to a big surprise, bigger than what he could ever have imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:- Heaven

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, bathing his face in its warmth.

John sighed in contentment, savouring the moment, before opening his eyes as he did each day to turn and bury his face in his wife's sweet-smelling hair.

He had every instant of his perfect life laid out with military precision, the more to indulge in each splendid moment.

Stretching out an arm to pull Mary close, he frowned in confusion when his palm didn't register the familiar warmth of his wife's body, but only the cool cotton of the sheet.

It couldn't be-the memory played out in the exact same way every morning, regular as clockwork.

His eyes were still closed but he was now loathe to open them. Something was wrong. All his instincts were on red-alert and he was suddenly terrified at what he might see.

But open them he must.

:

With his heart in his mouth, he cracked apart his eyelids to peek through.

The sun blinded him and he quickly re-closed them with a grunt of annoyance. Tilting his head, he tried again, and what he saw was enough for him to understand, that like Dorothy, he wasn't in Kansas any more, though his name was John Winchester and his Kansas was Heaven.

"What the Fuck!"

Where was Mary, the boys, his home? He was in a bed all right, just not the usual one.

Trembling, he shot off the bed as if it were a ghoul ready to devour him, to find himself tottering like a child who'd just learned to walk. He plonked his ass back down on the motel bed, for that's where he was- in a motel room - and took a deep breath.

No motel room had ever been included his best memories. The hunting life he'd lived on Earth had never been replayed in Heaven. He'd completely avoided all memories pertaining to it, even if they hadn't all been bad.

:

John didn't want to consider what this might mean, because either there had been a glitch in Heaven's workings or he really was in a motel room, one back on Earth.

Feeling his legs steadier now, he stood up, casting his eyes around the room.

It was empty, though he himself was fully dressed, shirt, jeans, jacket, boots. He recognised the clothes. He was wearing them the day he'd made the deal with Azazel for Dean's life.

His heart gave a flutter at the memory. His boys. Were they still alive, or had they been killed on a hunt and safe in their own heavenly bubble? He wasn't going to consider any other option...like Hell!

He put a hand to his chest. He could feel his heart pumping blood, maybe a little too fast but solid and strong.

In Heaven he'd never had a heartbeat. Up there it was all smoke and mirrors of the soul.

It was his heartbeat that clinched it. He was definitely on Earth. He was alive.

He had only one question. Why?

He felt his pockets. They were empty. Nothing to indicate the reason he was no longer in Heaven.

Well John, he chided. You're not gonna find out what's going on by hiding in here.

:

Earth.

::::::::::::::

The kid at the desk never even glanced up at the tall man who approached, that is until John grabbed him by the shirt. "You know what's going on here, kid?"

The kid let out a squeak. "What's with you, man. Let go or I'll call the cops."

"I'll repeat the question. Do you know why the fuck I'm here?"

The kid was really scared now. John Winchester in threatening mode was a sight to put fear into the hearts of stronger men than a scrawny teen.

"I don't know nothin', mister. I only came on this morning. Wasn't me who checked you in."

John knew when he was being lied to; the kid was telling the truth.

"Fine, " he grunted, loosening his hold and letting the boy fall back onto his chair.

"What day is it? Can you tell me that!"

"It's October, October tenth," the boy stuttered.

"Year?"

"2017."

:

John took a step back, flustered.

2017! He was in the future; eleven years in the future to be precise.

His boys would be grown men now, in their thirties, if they were still alive.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed by the need to see them, to hold his sons in his arms. His real sons, not the toddler copies he'd hugged so tightly every day in Heaven.

He had one more question for the dude who was staring up at him as if he was Satan in person ready to fillet him.

:

"Where is this place? Answer me and I'll get out of your hair."

" Outskirts of Jefferson City."

John nodded. State of Missouri.

It was where Azazel had taken his soul. Where he'd died.

:

Turning curtly on his heel, he pushed through the door into the cool air outside. He breathed it in, savoured it, felt his lungs expand as he filled them to the limit.

Earth. He didn't know he'd missed it until he was back.

Now to find his boys.

:

In the yard, a couple of cars were parked in front of the rooms. He made for the older of the two. muttered an apology under his breath as he hot-wired it and drove off.

Though John was happy to see that the tank was practically full, he needed cash. His stomach had begun to grumble and unlike Heaven, food didn't magically appear when he wanted it. So he'd need to get hold of some money real soon.

He pulled into the side of the road and rummaged in the glove compartment. The car must belong to a neat freak, for other than the vehicle's registration papers, it was empty.

On a hunch he pulled down the shade and smiled as he saw a twenty dollar note pushed under the strip of nylon.

Emergency gas money.

It would do as a stake for a game of pool. Start off small.

:

John grinned.

He felt alive, every fibre of his being revitalized and ready to take on the world. So different from the staleness of heaven.

By God, he was glad to be back

Three hours later, he strolled out of a seedy bar with 300 dollars in his pocket. It would get him something to eat and a bed for the night.

He'd ditch the car and hot-wire a different one. He hadn't been freed from Heaven just to find himself locked up in a jail cell.

:

Two days later, he was driving into Sioux Falls. If anyone knew where his boys were, it'd be that old codger Bobby Singer.

Eleven years on, he should still be around. John just hoped he'd stowed away the buckshot.

But John's hopes were dashed as he drove the third hot-wired car up the driveway to Bobby's house, or, John sighed, to where the house had once been.

There were still carcasses of junked cars dotted around, but there was only a dark mound of rotted wood to show for the building.

A fire, John realised quickly. The house had burned down.

He sat in the car, paying silent homage to the place, remembering how it had once been.

It didn't mean Bobby was dead, but it did make John's search for Sam and Dean that much harder.

John Winchester, however wasn't a man to be put off by a glitch. It might take him longer but he'd find his boys.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby's Yard.  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
Sitting in Bobby's driveway, John weighed his options.

He'd hoped Singer could've helped him out, brought him up to date, told him where his boys were or at least point him in the right direction, but now things had gotten more complicated.

He needed a to get his hands on a phone. Maybe Dean's old number was still active, that is if he could even remember it correctly.  
Whatever way he looked at it, money was a priority. He'd get round to setting up new credit cards but that'd take time.

 

However he still had a couple of aces in hand.  
He'd try them first, but he'd have to find another car to hot wire. Hanging onto one for more than twenty-four hours was dangerous. He could be stopped any time.  
Getting a legal set of wheels of his own was another priority.

 

Once again it was not to be.  
Where the Roadhouse had stood was another pile of despondent rubble.  
First Bobby, now Ellen. Just what had been happening on Earth while he was stuck in Heaven?

He fervently hoped that Ellen and Jo were alive and well elsewhere. The count of missing people had reached three. John desperately hoped it wasn't set to rise.

 

He had one more card to play, one he'd never shared with the boys.  
A shard of guilt speared through him. He'd wanted to tell Sam and Dean about their half-brother, but doing so would have brought Adam too close to the hunting world and to danger. 

Adam had a home and a loving mom, he didn't want the kid to have to go through what Sam and Dean had suffered.  
But then agian, maybe he'd just been cowardly, fearing his sons' reactions. Whatever, he'd never got round to telling them.  
And what Sam and Dean didn't know couldn't hurt them.

 

For the third time he set off on his quest, stopping only to rustle up cash in the seedy bars along the road to Windom, Minnesota.

While Bobby and Ellen might've had qualms about seeing a resurrected John Winchester, they'd eventually have been convinced. Stranger things had happened in the hunting world. 

Would Kate be as easily brought around? Not that she'd have know he'd died, John mused.  
She'd probably curse him for not showing his face for eleven years.

He parked his latest wreck of a car in the street adjacent to the Milligan house, strode up to the front door and rang the bell. 

 

The door creaked open to reveal an old guy.

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I'm looking for Kate. Is she in?”

“Kate?. Don't know any Kate.”

“Kate Milligan. This is her house. She has a kid, Adam.”

 

The man shook his head. “You got the wrong place, Mister. Only people here are me and my wife.”

“They sell off the house to you?” They moved? Maybe left a forwarding address?”

The man shook his head.  
“We bought direct from the Estate Agency. Never met the previous owners. Try the offices downtown. “Bright Future Homes” on Hamilton Street. Maybe they can tell you more.”

With that, John found the door slammed in his face.

 

 

He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes tight shut. Was everyone lost to him?  
Would Sam and Dean be too?

 

 

Walking out of the Real Estate offices, he sank down on a nearby park bench.  
Dead! Kate and Adam were dead, or at least presumed so, their bodies never having been found.

John didn't know for sure, but his hunting instincts were whispering to him that their disappearance was due to supernatural causes.

He grunted at the irony. He hadn't managed to save Adam after all, one more wrong decision by John Winchester.  
Maybe if Sam and Dean had known, they could have kept an eye out for the kid.

 

Had Sam and Dean suffered the same fate.  
No, they were expert hunters, he'd seen to that. They knew how to take care of themselves, but he couldn't push away the fear that his boys had succumbed to something more powerful than he'd been able to warn them against.

Whatever, he had to find out.

 

His memory reminded him of one more option- Missouri Moseley.  
He cursed himself roundly. He should've gone directly to her. Her psychic powers might have been able to trace his sons. And he wouldn't have had to work too hard to explain his resurrection.  
Missouri could sense if he was telling the truth or not.

 

But for the moment, he have to put it off.  
He needed to stop. Set down roots for a few weeks. He'd look for a job in a car body shop. Maybe he could pick up an old banger there and fix it up himself while working. 

He had to wait for his false credit cards to arrive and Windom was as good a place as any. He'd get a room in a cheap motel, set up a post office box.  
Between what he earned and what he hustled, he might manage to put by a decent nest-egg.

 

He'd noticed a garage as he'd driven past. He'd try for a job there. Gathering up his few belongings, he threw the car keys onto the seat of the car, closed the door and made his way forward.

As he walked, he had to wonder.  
If all he was discovering since being kicked out of Heaven was death, then why the fuck was he here at all.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter happens just after the episode13.03 Patience.

Outskirts Jefferson City, Minnesota  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
In frustration, John flung the cheap burner phone onto the passenger seat. Four weeks had passed and he was no nearer to finding his boys.

He'd checked in to what had to be the seediest motel ever, had managed to get a job at the car body shop, the owner all to glad to have qualified help.

He'd spent his days working, his nights hustling in the city's bars, while on top of that fixing up the horrendous little Honda which had been the only option open to him at the garage, his boss shrugging his shoulders at John's unhappy grimace.

When finally he'd gotten all his dominoes in a row; fake credit cards, cash, a legit car, John quit his job with many thanks.  
His boss had been reluctant to let him go. He'd never had an employee work his ass off with such intensity as John had.  
“You ever come back this way and need work, just look me up. “ 

John had nodded his thanks, but his road led elsewhere; to Sam and Dean.

 

He stared at the phone with hatred, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles blanched.

The only number he'd managed to remember correctly had been deactivated, but for some illogical reason he kept dialling it, as if he continued to insist someone might reply.  
He'd seen all the new-fangled smart phones every passerby seemed to have their noses buried in, his boys would have them too, and surely have changed all their contacts by now.

 

Sighing, he pointed the Honda's hood towards Lawrence and set off, leaving Jefferson City in his rear-view mirror.

 

::::::::::::::::::::  
Lawrence, Kansas.  
…...........................

John walked up the path towards the house, his mind overflowing with memories. 

Missouri had revealed the supernatural to him, a young man sick with pain at losing his wife in such a horrendous way... burned alive on the ceiling... a death so irrational that it couldn't be explained by normal means.

But Missouri had provided an explanation, however outlandish it had seemed at the time. He'd struggled to believe, but the honest expression on her face had eventually convinced him.  
It had been at that precise moment that he'd changed, no longer Mary Winchester's husband or the playful, loving, father to his two little sons.  
His heart had hardened, his focus shrinking until only the need for vengeance on the 'thing' that had killed his wife occupied his mind. That and the need to protect his boys.  
Whatever had done that to Mary, could easily come for Sam and Dean.

And fuck if that was going to happen on his watch.

 

Now he could accept how hard he'd driven his sons, how much of a burden he'd put on Dean's childish shoulders, how he'd been too fixated on revenge to try and consider his younger son's needs and wishes.  
He'd been terrified for his boys and that had made him despotic, a real sergeant-major.

Would he have done things differently if he'd had a second chance? 

The question was moot. He'd BEEN given a second chance, taken from Heaven and put back on Earth. Perhaps he couldn't repair the damage he'd done to his kids growing up, but now he'd make things right. Tell his sons how much he loved them, how happy he was to be able to see them again, to hold them in his arms.

 

 

Knocking on the door, he waited in trepidation. Missouri would tell him where his sons were, he was absolutely sure.

“You looking for Missouri?” a frail voice asked.

John turned to the side to see an old lady peeking over the fence.  
“Uh. Yeah, “ he replied.

The woman's face took on a sad expression.  
“You a friend of the family?”

“We go back a long way.”

“So you'll not have heard then? Missouri passed. Just the other day.” She gave a sniffle. “She was such a good soul. Always ready to give anyone who came to her door a helping hand.”

John registered the words, but couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Missouri. Dead?”

The old lady must've seen the shocked expression on John's face. “I'm so sorry for your loss,” she added in a soft, consolatory, tone of voice.  
“Her boy came past yesterday and told me the terrible news. Seems it was sudden, a heart attack of some kind, so he said.”

 

The ice that had taken hold of John's heart thawed a little. “Her son?” He hadn't even known Missouri had one, but maybe something could still be salvaged from this new disaster.

“He came to get some papers and such,“ she added helpfully.

“He say if he'd be back? I'd like to pay my respects.” John asked.

“Said he'd be back tomorrow to pick up a few more things. Nice boy. “

“If I see him, I'll tell him you came round. Mr. ..?”

“No. It's fine. I'll call back tomorrow. I'm gonna be in town for a while anyway. You wouldn't have a phone number would you?”

She frowned. “Sorry. I never thought to ask. Actually, it's been a long time since I saw James. Must be years now. He moved away to Georgia, I think it was.”

 

“Thank you, ma'am, “ John said, turning to go.

“She'll be sorely missed, Missouri Moseley will.”  
The old lady's voice trailed after him, but John was already working out his next move.

 

He had to talk to the son. He surely knew about the supernatural, could maybe give him a clue about finding Sam and Dean.

For now he'd book into a motel, but bright and early tomorrow morning he'd be parked outside Missouri's house waiting for her son to make an appearance.

 

John berated himself once more. He was king of the fuck-ups.  
If he'd come to Missouri first, weeks ago, he'd have found her alive. Now hers was just one more death to add to the long list of those he'd known and were no more.

 

The Following Day.  
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
It was mid afternoon before a tall, dark-skinned man walked up to Missouri's house, slipped a key in the lock and walked in.

John rammed the pistol he'd acquired illegally on the streets of Jefferson City, into the waistband of his pants. There shouldn't be any need for a firearm but he always liked to be prepared. 

Knocking on the front door, he was glad to see the neighbour was nowhere around.

 

The man he'd seen entering the house, opened it, a speculative expression on his features.

“I came to pay my condolences.” John said quickly. “Heard about your mom. I'm really sorry.”

“Thank you. Do I know you? Were you a client of my mom's.”

 

“Name's John Win....Winters. Yeah, I suppose you could call me that. I met your mom long time ago. Nineteen eighty-three to be exact. Then we kinda lost touch.”

“Well then, thank you, I'm James,” he said. “I'm just here to pick up some things, but I suppose I can offer such an old acquaintance of my mom a coffee. Come on in.”

“Thanks. Real civil of you. Came a long way to pay my respects.”  
The guy nodded, his eyes tearing up.

 

When they were both seated, coffee cups in hand, John launched into what he was really there for; information, though his grief at Missouri's death was real enough..

“Listen. It's true I came to pay my respects. Your mom helped me out in so many ways, but I'd hoped to talk to her personally. Maybe you can help. When I came to her all those years ago, it was because I had a problem. A....... supernatural..... problem.”

As soon as he pronounced the words, James' attitude changed.

“I don't think I can help. Don't know anything about that.”

He lowered his eyes. “My mom helped people by telling them what they wanted to hear, made them feel better. That's it. There was nothing 'supernatural' about her.”

 

“We both know that's not true, “ John retorted. “She was a powerful psychic. But all I need is some information, because the problem I had back then, a..... ghost... problem, has returned. Your mom gave me the name of a man who helped with this kind of thing. Winchester I think it was...  
Now I had his number but it's been deactivated, I wondered if your mom had mentioned him.”

 

As soon as John said 'Winchester', he'd seen the glint of recognition in the guy's eyes. 

A thrill went through him. The name rang a bell okay.

 

James pushed back his chair and stood up. “I think you should go. I really can't help you.”

“Please.“ John found himself almost pleading. ”It's important. I need to get in touch with the Winchesters. Just point me in the right direction. That's all I ask and I'll walk away.”

James must have seen the sincerity in John's eyes, for he sighed.  
“I did meet a guy called Winchester. He gave me a hand...”

“So your mom's death wasn't natural ...” John broke in.

“No.” James pulled out his phone, flipped though his contacts and scribbled a number on a piece of paper. 

“This is Dean Winchester's. He left it with me in case of further problems. Now could you please go. My mom's death has been traumatic enough without getting involved with other people's problems. I'll be selling up here once everything's settled, so don't bother coming back. You won't find me anymore.”

 

"Thanks, James. You don't know how much this means to me. And don't worry, I won't bother you again.”

 

With that John made his way to the front door, James already forgotten, the piece of paper with his son's number clasped in his hand like a precious icon.


	4. Chapter 4

Now that John had the means of getting in touch with his sons, he found himself hesitant.

Should he call them? Tell them who he was? Would they think it was a prank? Cut the call? Block his number?

After all he'd brought his sons up to be suspicious and careful.

No, maybe he'd be better going with a half-truth. He'd call, disguising his voice, tell them he needed help, that his home was haunted.

Better to arrange a meeting in a public venue, where Dean or Sam wouldn't be able to pull out a gun and shoot him, thinking he was a shape-shifter or some other creature, before he had a chance to explain.

:

Their dad back from the dead.

It had been a shock to himself, he couldn't help but imagine what the sight of him would do to his boys.

He looked the same age as he'd been when Azazel had dragged him off to Hell-fifty-two. He'd have been sixty-three now if he'd lived out his years naturally.

Dean would be around thirty-eight and Sammy four years younger. He wondered how their lives had been. He hoped they'd managed to find some happiness in the midst of the horror of the supernatural.

Well, he'd soon find out.

With his heart in his mouth, he dialled the number Missouri's son had given him.

:

The phone rang a couple of times, before a clipped voice replied. "Who is this? How did you get this number?"

John tried to speak but the sound of his son's voice, far huskier than he remembered, but nonetheless all Dean, left him tongue-tied and emotional.

The last time he'd spoken to his boy was in hospital, and the last words he'd shared were to tell him that if he couldn't save Sammy, he'd have to kill him. A terrible legacy to leave to anyone, especially to Dean who loved his sibling above all else.

:

But he had to say something. Or else Dean would close the call.

One helpful result of his emotion was that his voice was trembling and breathless, nothing like the autocratic voice he used to have.

"Uh. My name's... Dave. A friend gave me your number, said you helped him out with a ghost problem times back. I think my house's haunted. Objects been flying around the rooms, Cold areas appearing where it should be warm. My wife and kids are terrified."

'Where's this happening?' Dean asked.

'I live in Lawrence, Kansas,' John replied. 'Can you make it out here?'

'Yeah. It's not a problem. We can come and case out your house. See if it's our kind of thing.'

:

John kept his voice harried and breathless. 'That's great. How quickly can you get here?'

'Not a problem. We can be there tomorrow. Come straight to your house.'

'Is it okay if we meet up beforehand? I'll escort you home. My wife, she's kinda upset about all this.'

'Fine with me,' Dean replied.

'There's a diner called Big Joe's. It's...'

'I know where it is,' Dean butted in.

'Uh. Well then. Around three o'clock? I'll be wearing a red Laker's cap. See you inside,' John added.

'Okay,' Dean acknowledged, cutting the call.

:

'Who was it?' Sam asked, lifting his head from the laptop.

Dean lobbed the phone onto the table. 'A guy asking for our help with a possible ghost infestation. Says we did a job for a friend of his. Got our number from him. Man sounds kinda weird though.'

Sam shrugged. 'First encounters with the supernatural tend to shake people up.'

'I suppose,' Dean agreed. 'At least the job's near hand. Lawrence. We meet up with the guy tomorrow afternoon.'

Sam nodded and returned his attention to the screen.

:

John stared at the phone in his trembling hand. It had taken all his self-control not to blurt out who he was, but however much he'd wanted to, he knew it would've been a mistake.

He'd set eyes on his boys tomorrow. He could hardly wait.

:

The Following Day.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

John had been sitting in the diner since two o'clock, several cups of coffee already gulped down to attest his nervousness.

He'd chosen a seat away from the windows and in a shadowy corner of the locale. He wanted his sons up close before showing them his face.

It was hitting three-fifteen when over the buzz of the clients, he heard the familiar thrum of the Impala.

So the boys still drove her, he mused with a smile. Dean hadn't traded her in for a modern auto. But then, his son had always been fiercely loyal, both to family and to that black car.

:

The door pushed opened and he saw them, Dean in front, Sam at his shoulder, looming like a shortened version of a Wendigo.

Had his youngest grown even taller?

Pride filled him. Two fine sons. Two fine men. And two dangerous men.

He could sense the coiled power radiating from them, though dressed in jeans and jackets they outwardly looked no different to the other clients in the diner.

:

Sam whispered to his brother, nodding toward where John was sitting, and John watched in eager trepidation as they made their way forward.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Dean noticed it first, a certain something in the set of the shoulders, in the way the man sat, with the awareness and attention of a seasoned hunter.

It triggered a fleeting memory of his father.

He couldn't see the man's face, for he had the Lakers' cap pulled well down over his forehead. It was as if he wanted them nearer before showing himself.

:

He came to a sudden halt, causing his brother to crash into his back with a whoomph.

'Dean. What the hell?' Sam asked, alarmed when he felt his brother's hand reaching back to where his gun nestled in the waistband of his jeans.

So much had happened in the ensuing years, that his dad had slipped down into the pit of Dean's memories, but those memories were still there and easily accessed.

'There's something wrong, Sam. I can feel it. I think we're walking into a trap,' Dean replied in a low voice.

'Dean. All these people,' Sam whispered back. 'Whatever it is, we gotta play along. We can't put civilians in danger. Let's just go sit down. We'll take things as they come. If there's a threat, we need to know what it is. You can't just pull out your gun. It'll cause a panic.'

'Fine,' Dean replied grudgingly, retracting his hand and moving slowly forward until he was flush with the table where the guy was sitting.

As yet, the stranger hadn't acknowledged the two brothers in any way, his bowed head and the beak of the cap hiding his face from view.

:

'Who, or what, are you?' Dean hissed through clenched teeth. He hovered threateningly at the side of the table, sure now that something was wrong and unwilling to get any closer to whatever this was.

'Sit down,' the man said, his voice camouflaged by a hand across his mouth. 'I'm no risk to you or any others. I just need you boys to listen to what I have to say without hassle.'

Dean turned his head to glance back at Sam, who shrugged his consent. Contrary to his big brother, the younger man wasn't sensing any bad vibes.

Whatever was going on, Sam didn't reckon they were in any particular danger.

:

With a imperceptible nod, Dean slid across the bench seat and sat down. Sam followed.

'I know this is going to be a shock, but it's really me,' the unknown offered. 'So, don't freak out.'

:

The two stared unbelievingly as the mystery man slowly lifted his head to reveal the craggy, handsome features of their father, John Winchester.

Dean's face immediately morphed into a pale, freckled, mask of hatred. 'What the fuck are you? Shape-shifter, ghoul?' he spat out, venom in his voice.

But Sam gripped his arm, eyes wide in confusion. 'Dean. I uh… think it might really be dad.'

:

The man removed his hat, his eyes brimming now with unshed tears. He didn't speak, just drank in the sight of his sons, like a man stumbling through the desert dying of thirst, who'd finally found an oasis.

'Dad?' Dean whispered, his defences crumbling like butter under a hot knife at the sight of the unmistakable look of love emanating from John's features. 'Is it really you?'

John Winchester nodded. 'Dean. Son. It's so good to see you again. And Sammy.' He turned his gaze on his youngest. 'You grew even taller. I bet that pissed Dean off no end,' he added with a grin.

The grin morphed into a huge smile, a smile full of joy. Somehow it was different now. There was nothing holding him back from letting his boys know how much he loved them, how he'd always loved them, even when that love had been obscured by his obsession to avenge his wife.

:

'It's really you, dad?' Sam echoed his brother's question. 'But…. how?'

John shrugged his wide shoulders. 'I've no idea. I was in heaven and then I wasn't.'

'Let's get out of here,' Dean said, agitated. He needed privacy and he needed to feel his dad's body crushed against his own.

:

Once outside John gathered his sons into his arms, heard their hearts beating in unison with his own, felt their warm tears dotting his face. He never wanted to let go.

He needed to make it up to them for being an absent father. Make it up to them for all he'd put them through - and make it up to them he would! For some reason, he'd been given a second chance and he wasn't going to ruin it.

He pushed away to study his boys. They were older, lines stamped on their faces that their younger versions hadn't possessed.

He sighed, sure now of the fact that Dean and Sam hadn't had easy lives.

:

'We've got lots to talk about, dad,' Dean said, wiping the dampness from his cheeks. 'So much has happened...'

'I can imagine,' John agreed ruefully. 'So, you still trudging around crappy motels or have you set up house somewhere?'

'Uh,' Sam stuttered, still fazed by his dad's presence, but happy at the same time. 'Yeah, we got a place now. Just wait till you get an eyeful.'

:

He glanced at his brother, but Dean's eyes were fixed on his father's face. There was a question he needed to ask, one that he never thought to receive an answer to.

'Why did you do it dad? Sell your soul for me?' His voice had a childish, pleading edge to it, as if he was no more than a kid searching for reassurance from his parent.

John dosed his voice with all the gravitas his first-born needed to hear. "You're my son. I love you, Dean. I'd do it again in a minute. You're worth that and so much more, believe me.'

Dean felt the tears welling up once more. He'd always believed he was worthless. Now here was his dad telling him not only that it wasn't true and that he didn't regret doing what he did, but that he'd sell his soul again if needed.

Sam met his father's eyes and smiled his approval. He knew how much John's words meant to his big brother.

:

'So, Dean saved you then?' John declared wryly, looking his youngest straight in the eye. 'I'm sure he told you. He wouldn't have been able to keep it from you. Those were the hardest words I'd ever had to say, especially to Dean who loves you so much, but I had no doubt he'd never let anything stop him from looking out for you.'

Sam gave a deep sigh. 'He saved me….. more than once…'

'...just as Sammy here saved my ass countless times too,' Dean broke in, giving his brother an affectionate glance.

John nodded, satisfied. His boys were still together, their bond intact. He'd done a good job after all.

:

Dean slung an arm over his father's shoulders. 'We've got so much to explain, dad. It's gonna take weeks.'

'Maybe even months,' Sam added with a grin, taking his place at his dad's other side.

John grunted in understanding, though he didn't care if it took years to bring him abreast of his sons' lives. All he wanted was to be with them and do what he could to keep them safe. He'd been taken from Heaven for a reason, of that he was sure. Time would tell why.

:

'Lead on,' he said, eyeing the waiting Impala.

'You're in the back,' Sam declared, opening the passenger seat and sliding in.

'I know my place,' John declared teasingly. 'I'm your third wheel now.'

The Impala roared away, each Winchester wrapped up in their own individual thoughts.

Life had definitely gotten more complicated, but neither Dean nor Sam could be sorry that their dad was back.

::::::::::

When the grim, red-brick building came into view, almost blocking out the sky, John wondered if his sons weren't really shape-shifters, about to drag him to their lair.

"What the fuck..." he blurted out.  
tbc


	6. Chapter 6

When the grim, red-brick building came into view, almost blocking out the sky, John wondered if his sons were really shape-shifters after all, about to drag him to their lair.

"What the fuck...?'

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sam turned to his father with a wry expression, while Dean gave low chuckle.

'Yeah, I guess first impressions can be kinda surprising, but this is what we've been calling home for the past few years.'

'Actually, it's more your home than ours,' Sam added with a smile.

John stared into Sam's hazel eyes, confused. 'You talking in riddles now, son?'

'All will be explained,' Dean hinted mysteriously, parking the Impala at the top of the driveway leading down to the front door.

:

His father's presence made him feel euphoric, and for a moment he felt like a child again, the one who'd looked up to his dad as a hero, the one who'd protected him and Sammy from all the evil out there.

Perhaps he was painting the past in a more idealised way than it had actually been, pushing all the heated arguments and bickering to the side, but he was just really glad to have his dad back.

He flickered a glance at Sam, and saw the same serene expression on his little brother's face.

Mentally comparing it to Mary's resurrection at Amara's hands, Dean found the scales weighing all in favour of his dad. He realized he was being unfair towards his mother, but she certainly hadn't turned out as he'd expected, whereas being with his dad was as familiar as shrugging into a warm, comfortable coat.

:

John exited the back seat, his eyes still drawn to the unusual construct. It reminded him of the Victorian orphanages in Dickens' novels.

Oliver Twist would have been right at home here, he mused.

Sam and Dean hovered at their father's side. They understood his astonishment. It had been theirs too, the first time they'd set eyes on the place.

"So, we going in? I think I need a cold beer just to get me ready to hear what you boys gotta say." John harrumphed eventually.

With a nod, Dean strode forward, key in hand.

:

Once again, John had to stop for a moment to digest the interior of the bunker, before making his way down the steps into the library.

'Just what is this place?' he asked in awe.

'Come on dad,' Sam said, clapping a hand on John's shoulder. 'I think we're gonna need that beer first.'

He sought out Dean's eyes, but his big brother seemed as Zen as a Trappist monk.

Although Sam was outwardly calm, his gut was churning. Would his dad look at him in hate when he found out Sam had been the devil's vessel, and was still tainted with demon blood? The blood of that very demon who'd killed his wife.

:

'Take a seat, dad,' Dean said. 'Let's go get those beers, Sammy.'

'Uh, yeah. We'll be right back,' Sam chipped in, following his brother into the kitchen.

'How're we gonna do this?' Dean asked once they were out of sight of their father. A frown crinkled his brow. 'How much are we gonna tell him? Where do we even start?'

Sam shrugged. 'I guess from the moment he died. As for Mom, I think we should keep that to ourselves for now. I believe she's probably still alive in the Alt world, but we don't have any certainties. Now Jack's disappeared too...'

'Yeah. Let's keep it simple, take it year by year,' Dean agreed.

:

'Dean...' Sam began, gripping his sibling's arm. 'About me...'

'Stop it Sammy. Dad's not gonna come down on you for that demon-blood trash. You were an innocent baby.

That's all on mom. She was a hunter, she knew what making a deal with a demon entailed, and the fact that she agreed without even knowing what the demon wanted in exchange, was idiotic.

I've told you a million times, you're not to blame for anything that happened to you. Others dictated our agenda, even dad and mom's. They didn't even like each other until the cupids forced them to fall in love.'

He grasped Sam's shoulders.

'Dad will understand, Sammy. He isn't like m... 'Dean never finished the phrase, so Sam did. 'Mom?'

'Yeah,' Dean turned away, passed a hand over his face. 'She just wasn't what I remembered. It's on me that I can't really accept who she is, against who I believed she was. I guess the imprinting we receive as children lasts our entire live, huh.

C'mon, dad'll be pacing the floor by now. He never did have much patience.'

'I think he's changed a lot,' Sam commented with a smile, 'but in a good way. It's... really great to see him, y'know.'

'Yeah,' Dean agreed, grabbing the beers from the fridge and strolling back to the library, Sam at his heels.

:

They found John perusing the books along the shelves.

'You've got even more books than that old coot Bobby had. Is he still alive? I was at the salvage yard. The place was burned to a cinder. I'm guessing something bad went down,' John declared without turning around.

'Bobby passed,' Dean replied. 'Helping us. He saved our asses countless times.'

'He was really fond of you two,' John reminisced. 'Used to tear into me something awful for how I was bringing you up. I guess he was right after all. I'm sorry for what I put you boys through, but I honestly believed I was doing the right thing to protect you both.'

John turned towards them. 'I don't know why I've been given a second chance, but I'm gonna make it up to you, if you still want me around, that is.

If you decide otherwise, that having a resurrected father getting in your way is a burden, then I'll get back in my little Honda and take my ass off to pastures new.'

:

Sam and Dean felt a lump coming to their throats at John's words.

'Sit down, dad,' Sam said to cover their emotions. 'We've got so much to talk about.'

John wiped a cuff across his eyes and took his seat, reached out for the beer Sam was proffering and took a hefty gulp.

'First of all. Just how did you find us?' Dean asked. 'We're not exactly in the phone book.'

'Well, I went straight to Bobby's. then…. uh…. I asked around. Didn't think to go to Missouri until it was too late, though I was lucky enough to run into her son, James who gave me your number. I was really sorry to find out she'd passed. Some fugly take her down?'

'Yeah,' Dean confirmed sadly. 'A crocotta.'

The three men held a moment of silence as they remembered the warm-hearted psychic. Unfortunately, ninety-nine percent of those involved with the world of hunting invariably ended up that way, killed by something they were hunting.

:'

'So, you got out of hell when the devil's gate opened. What happened then, Dad?' Dean asked, getting back to his father's story.

John grimaced. 'It was sheer luck that I was near the opening. When the demons around me rushed towards it, I managed to get pulled along in their wake. Just made it out before the door closed.

Saw you boys for a moment, then a weird little guy, skinny as a rake, appeared at my side.

He told me my work was done and that he'd escort me to the portals of heaven. Said I should be privileged to be accompanied by him. Not everyone got the honour.'

:

The brothers exchanged a meaningful glance. "Death" was the word that flashed between them, and Dean felt inordinately guilty at having been the one to kill him. He'd been kinda fond of the old guy, even if he scared the fuck out of him.

'A reaper,' Sam commented blandly. 'They escort you to wherever your soul is destined to end up.'

'And that's it,' John shrugged. 'I found myself surrounded by my best memories. Picked out the one I liked most and lived it over and over, until I found myself back on Earth.'

:

'So how about you boys. You been hunting all this time?' John asked. 'How did you find this place? What IS this place?'

'It's a Men of Letters bunker,' Dean explained. 'Seems the Men of Letters was a secret organization which studied the supernatural – composed of scholars who never did any actual hunting but only research.

They were a go-to institution for those who did tackle the monsters, providing them with info, lore and spells.'

'High-brow guys,' Sam butted in. 'Seems they looked down on hunters as mere gorillas who did the dirty work.'

'Huh,' John huffed. 'Pansy-assed big-heads, then.'

'Not everyone,' Dean grinned. 'It seems we're descended from them too, though YOU, dad!'

:

John almost coughed up his beer. 'Me?'

'Yeah. Your dad Henry. He was a Man of Letters,' Sam explained.

A dark frown shadowed John's face. 'My dad ran off and left Mom and me. Never had the decency to let us know why.'

:

Sam stretched out a hand and covered his father's.

'He couldn't. The night he left you, he was magically taken away. He died before he could get back.'

'How do you know this?' John asked, his face pale.

'Because he told us,' Dean replied. 'He used a spell, to escape a demon, that sent him to the future. Appeared in the closet of our motel room. It was a blood spell. Blood calls to blood.

He thought to find you but he got us instead."

:

'You met my dad?' John was flabbergasted.

'Yeah. He was a good man. He died saving us from Abaddon,' Sam provided.

'Abaddon?'

'Too much information, dude,' Dean grunted. 'We gotta take this slow. Henry told us about this place and eventually we found it. If he'd lived, you'd have become one of the Men of Letters, been brought up in and around this bunker.

But things went downhill, the Men of Letters were all taken out and the Bunker forgotten, until we found it again.'

:

'So, dad didn't abandon us, after all. He couldn't come back,' John said.

'That's about it,' Sam confirmed. 'He loved you, dad, he wouldn't have left you if he'd had the choice.'

:

John leaned back in the chair, overwhelmed by the emotions of the day. 'I'm kinda tired, guys. You got somewhere I can rest up? Think things over.'

The brothers exchanged glances. 'Uh yeah. You can have my room,' Sam offered. 'I can double up with Dean.'

John got to his feet. Hearing about Henry after all this time had affected him profoundly. He needed time to mull it over.

:

Men of Letters. What fucking next?

tbc

 

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

John gave the room a cursory glance before collapsing onto the bed. His brain was in overload, trying to catalogue all the information it'd been fed, and moreover, his gut told him it was only a part of what was still to come.

:

Wearily he pushed it all to the back of his mind, preferring to concentrate on his boys.

They looked so wear-worn and tired. He'd done this to them, brought them up as hunters when he should've taken his kids and given them some semblance of a normal life in some backwater town, far from all the madness he'd raised them in.

But it was too late now.

He didn't think he'd manage to close an eye, but sleep overcame him almost immediately, and when he awoke next morning it was to the astonishment of having had a restful and dreamless night.

:

Dean's room.

::::::::::::::::::::

'Move over, Sasquatch,' Dean grumbled, his brother's tall body sprawled across the bed, leaving him minimum space to lie down in.

Sam obligingly shuffled to the far edge of the mattress as Dean settled himself at his side.

'So,' Dean offered, turning to face his brother. 'It's not that I'm not glad to see Dad, but why?'

'Who knows,' Sam replied. 'We could effectively say there was a reason for mom coming back, however weak. Amara wanted to give you a gift for bringing her and Chuck together...'

'Well, for a start, she was completely wide of the mark in her reasoning, dude. WE brought them together, Sammy. And to be honest, I'd left all thoughts of mom in the past where they belonged. Bringing her back to life wasn't my heart's desire. Amara read it wrong.'

'Whatever,' Sam sighed. 'Now we've got dad to deal with too. Just how much are we gonna tell him? We need to find Jack and save mom from the Alt world.'

Dean opened his mouth to speak but Sam anticipated him. 'I know you don't think she's alive, but trust me on this Dean. She is! I don't know why I'm so sure, but I am.'

His sibling glared at him, but answered easily enough. 'Okay, psychic boy. I'll take it under advisement.'

Sam rolled his eyes, but at least Dean was no longer openly denying Sam's certainty any more.

:

'So, dad?'

'I dunno, Sammy.' Dean's eyes glowed green in the semi-darkness. 'I think we're gonna have to tell him about Jack, mom and the Alt world, 'cos' that's what we're mixed up in right now. As for the past, we keep any info on a need to know basis. As stuff crops up, we let him in on it.'

'Fine, so let me get this straight. Jack is Satan's spawn. Mom is a hunter, resurrected by God's sister, and alive in an Alt world opened by Jack's birth.'

Dean sighed. 'In a nutshell, yeah. The expanation sucks, is going to fuck up, but for now, it's the only way to go.'

Sam nodded. 'Let's get some sleep. Get a fresh take on it tomorrow.'

Dean grinned. 'When was the last time we shared a bed, Sammy?'

'Wasn't that long ago,' Sam replied with nonchalance. 'Does sleeping together in the Impala count?'

'I guess it does,' Dean said, 'though I'm still working out the yoga moves needed for a Sasquatch like yourself to have sex in the back seat of my Baby.'

'I'm more bendy than you could ever imagine,' Sam teased, snuggling down into the sheets, the nearness of his brother lulling him into a dreamless sleep, while Dean after a brooding few minutes, duly followed him into the arms of Morpheus.

:

Sam's room.

:::::::::::::::::::

Next morning.

John sniffed at his arm-pits, where a musty smell of sweat was evident. He desperately needed a shower and some clean clothes.

Throwing a glance around Sam's bedroom, he noticed the austerity, more a monk's cell than a place of rest, but then he'd brought his kids up to need only the bare necessities. Frills and flounces had never been part of their lives. However, with every detail he observed, his guilt and remorse for the lives his boys had been forced to face, weighed more heavily on his conscience.

"I'm gonna make it up to them, in whatever way I can," he swore to himself, voicing the words out loud, to let his ears in on it too.

:

The aroma of newly-brewed coffee wafted through the corridor as he made his way forward to where the buzz of conversation told him Sam and Dean were already up and about. He followed their voices to the kitchen, only to hear the conversation stop abruptly as he appeared in the doorway.

'Hey, Dad,' Dean said. 'You sleep okay?'

'G'morning, Dad,' Sam echoed, smiling up at his father. 'Take a seat. I'll fix you a coffee.'

'Boys,' John nodded. 'Yeah. Slept like a log, surprisingly. Didn't think I'd shut eye. You might need to change the sheets, Sam,' he added sheepishly. 'I reckon I roughed them up a bit, kinda smelled them out too.'

Sam merely nodded before sliding a cup of steaming coffee in front of the older man.

'Dean's finest brew. He's become quite the domesticated little housewife since he's had a kitchen to play in,' he grinned, glancing affectionately at his brother.

:

John raised a sceptical eyebrow. 'Dean domesticated? That's one for the books!'

'I've discovered skills I didn't know I had. Don't knock cooking and bottle-washing!' Dean sniffed.

'Well, if this coffee's anything to go by, you definitely have culinary talents,' John grinned, the black liquid an absolute pleasure as he gulped it down.

'So, what's the plan for today? ' he asked.

Sam glanced at his brother. 'Uh. I thought we'd take the time to bring you up to date gradually, get you used to... well …. everything.'

'Yeah, don't want to rush into things,' Dean agreed, remembering his and Sam's conversation the night before.

:

Sam gave a lop-sided smile.

He wasn't looking forward to feeding any more info to his dad. There was too much which still hurt in his own past; so much guilt which Sam felt he still had to expiate, though Dean had kicked his ass every time he'd blamed himself.

Thank god for big brothers, Sam mused, lifting his eyes to stare at Dean.

They might argue, come to blows, even hurl hurtful accusations at each other, but most of it was just a way to blow off steam.

Living in each other's pockets since toddlers wasn't all puppies and roses.

:

When John got up to head for the bathroom, the brothers gave a relieved sigh. For now, the discussion had been shelved, at least until after the shower.

'Why do you think a hypothetical 'someone' resurrected Dad?' Dean asked again when his father had exited the room.

Sam didn't have an answer, but usually things happened for a reason. The problem was discovering what it was.

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

Resplendent in fresh clothes, John made his way back to the library, but not before casting a curious eye down the corridors. Doors to the left and the right. He wondered what secrets might be hidden behind them but for now the two biggest enigmas were waiting for him - his sons.

Every instinct was sounding the alarm that his boys were custodians of lore he'd find hard to get his mind around. But he'd be up for the task. John Winchester feared nothing except losing his sons again. And if he had his way that would never happen.

His mind flew to Mary and he sighed. How she would've loved to have been in his place. See Sam and Dean again, but a selfish part of himself was happy the privilege had fallen to him.

Where was she now, his beloved wife, the woman who'd died on the ceiling and with her death initiated John into the hunting world? What would she have said of her sons' life, fraught with danger, pain and suffering?

No, it was better she never knew. He hoped she was happy in heaven, immersed in her best memories, being with her entire family there, just as he'd been. But now that he was back on Earth, he understood that not even the tranquility of heaven could compare to reality.

This was the humans' playground. It was where they were meant to be, where the human spirit was at its best.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Both boys lifted their heard in synch as he entered the room, Dean had his feet up on the huge table, while Sam was in front of a laptop. Technology had been evolving since his day as he'd had occasion to see while hanging out in Windom. Even the car body shops had been updated to the latest electronics. This was a whole new world for John Winchester.

'So, gotta say this place is noteworthy. I'm guessing there's more than a few secrets behind all those doors.'

Sam gave him a luminous smile. 'You bet. There's even a well-kitted out dungeon!'

John raised an incredulous eyebrow.' Kinky! But…. could come in handy for a whole host of things.'

'And it has,' Dean added with nonchalance. 'Things better forgotten.'

:

A pall of silence blanketed the room for a moment as the brothers' thoughts went to memories of demon blood, Mark of Cain, Crowley; interrogations of all kinds which the dungeon had hosted in a relatively short period of time.

'Oay then,' John broke in. 'What's on the agenda? I'm ready to contribute in any way I can.'

Dean allowed his feet to crash down to the floor before leaning on the table to face his father, his eyes wary. Now that his dad had met his sons again, he might want to react as their mom had; go off and hunt for her own personal gratification and girl-time, leaving Sam and himself alone.

'Listen, dad. If you want to take some time, go do stuff on your own. It's fine….'

'Yeah, dad,' Sam chimed in. 'We won't mind. We understand how strange everything must feel to you.'

'You boys trying to get rid of me already?' John stated. His tone was light but the question hung over the table, heavy with underlying meaning.

:

The brothers exchanged glances. 'No. It's… just, anyone who gets close to us usually either runs or ends up dead,' Sam said.

'Well, unless you boys throw me out, I'm happy to stick around.'

'Thanks Dad,' Dean declared, his features relaxing into a smile, though John wondered why his oldest was thanking him, not knowing that one of Dean's greatest fears, even now, was of being abandoned, left behind, something their mother had already put him and his brother through.

'What about you?' Sam asked. 'When you were in Heaven, did you uh... see… anything…. anyone...?'

A crease appeared on John's brow, as if he was trying to remember. 'Can't say I noticed. The reaper left me in front of a door, told me to open it and go inside, which is what I did. It slammed shut behind me and I found myself in our home in Lawrence, with Mary and you boys as little kids coming to greet me. I was so fucking happy, I never thought to ask myself if there was anything else going on.'

'Well,' Sam' said. 'You've experienced Heaven, so I'm guessing you're open to believing in angels?'

'However much I'd rather not add naked, winged, little cherubs to my list of supernatural beings, I can see they might probably exist,' John agreed.

'Well, they do,' Dean grunted, 'and they're no cherubs, they're more malevolent even than demons.'

The smile wiped itself from John's face. 'You're joking? Right?' He looked over at Sam who with a nod confirmed Dean's words.

'We've had dealings with them. They act out their evil shrouded in self-righteous hypocrisy. At least demons are honest.'

:

John leaned back in his chair. Every time his sons opened their mouths, he was made aware of things which astounded him. Angels were worse than demons! Fuck!'

'I'm gonna assume you know this through personal experience?' he asked

'Yeah,' Dean confirmed, glancing over at Sam. 'Very personal.'

'At this point, I can't see how I'm gonna be useful to you boys. I'm gonna have to get familiar with shit-fulls of lore before I can help. Otherwise, I'm just gonna be a dead weight for you to carry.'

Dean leaned forward and covered his dad's hand with his own. 'Don't say that, dad. It's great to have you here.'

John nodded, gratified. There was no mistaking the sincerity in Dean's words.

:

'So, Dean saved you, Sammy. You wanna tell me more?'

Sam's face paled. He didn't want to talk about himself or what had happened with Azazel and Lucifer.

If Dad had to know, and to be of any practical use, he'd have to be brought up to scratch on pretty much everything, he'd rather leave any explanations to his brother. Sam just couldn't bear to see his father look at him as if he were a freak.

:

'Uh ...maybe later, dad.' He pointed a hesitant finger towards the staircase. 'I just gotta go…uh...get some things from the Impala.'

With that Sam made his way to the front door, closing it with a thump behind him.

'Was it something I said?' John asked, his gaze trailing after his son as he exited the bunker.

'Sam's had a bad time, and though none of it was his fault, he's kinda touchy about it.'

'What's he afraid of? That I'll be pissed at him or something?'

John sighed. 'Listen, we might have bickered all though his teen years, but Sam hasn't got a bad bone in his body. There's nothing he could tell me that would make me believe otherwise.'

'Well, you did warn me that if I couldn't save Sam, I'd have to kill him. That doesn't sound very fatherly.' Dean's face darkened at the memory, and of the heartache it had caused him.

:

'I said I was sorry,' John sighed. 'Thing is, I'd heard rumors from sources saying Sam might have been targeted in some way. When I knew I was going to make a deal to save you, I had to find a way to keep you on your toes, Dean. To pay attention to any evil-doers who might approach Sam. I had to make it short and to the point. There was just no time to elaborate. I knew you'd do everything to protect your brother.

'I tried my best,' Dean stated with an exhale, 'but it was never enough to keep Sammy safe.'

'He's here with you now, so you did good, son. You did real good.'

:::::::

John pushed back the chair and stood up. 'Now I'm gonna go tell Sammy he did good too.'

'Dad, no! Maybe it's better to let Sam talk about stuff when he's ready,' Dean rebutted in alarm, not wanting his brother upset more than necessary.

'Trust me on this, Dean. I get that you believe you're the only one who knows what makes Sam tick, and that you want to protect him from all kinds of pain, but sometimes a boy needs his dad.'

tbc


	9. Chapter 9

Sam settled his head back on top of the leather seat, his gaze caught by a little brown mark on the lining of the car's ceiling.

He frowned. Dean was always so careful to make sure his baby was pristine, far more now than he did in the past. He'd tell his sibling about it when he went back inside.

In the meantime, Sam used the tiny stain to focus his thoughts.

 

He was glad to see his dad - more than glad. He'd always regretted not having had time to talk things through with John back in the day, before Azazel took his father's soul.

Yeah, there had been angry moments between them caused by John following his own agenda, only sharing with his sons when things had come to a head, but at least as far as regarded their early relationship, Sam hadn't had the shame of the demon blood to contend with.

:

With a click, the driving door opened and John slid into the Impala.

Sam froze. He hadn't expected his dad to follow him out, certain that Dean would have his back, and be the one to let John in on his repugnant demon-blood secret.

'Why did you run off, son?' John asked, twisting his upper body to better study his boy. 'Hunters inhabit a dark and tenebrous world, filled with evil—and that can rub off on us all. I nearly killed Dean when I was possessed by Azazel. Don't you think I feel like the lowest of the low for doing that to my own son?'

'It wasn't your fault Dad,' Sam declared. But he couldn't stop the memories of that day from filling his mind. Azazel/John urging him to press the trigger, while Dean, bloodied and in agony, begging Sam not to kill their dad.

'It was MY body inflicting harm on Dean,' John was saying. 'MY hands causing him such pain and devastation, so Sam, whatever it is you're afraid to tell me, it can't be any worse than that.'

:

Sam turned his head away from his father, lancing a one-thousand-mile stare through the passenger window, then, with a sigh, he began to speak.

'The night mom died, Azazel came into my room. He stood over my cot, sliced his finger and let drops of his blood, his demon blood, dribble into my mouth.'

:

John schooled himself to stay absolutely still, afraid that if he moved a muscle, Sam would run again. But what his boy had just said, shocked him to the core.

'The awful thing is,' Sam continued, 'if mom hadn't come into the nursery just then, she wouldn't have died. Azazel killed her simply because she interrupted him.'

Sam peeked a glance at his father, but John's features were impassive.

Encouraged, the younger man continued. 'Turns out I wasn't the only one to have had a visit from the yellow-eyed demon. He'd visited other kids too, all of them on their six months' birthday. But Dean and I only found this out later.

Azazel's blood gave us 'special children' as he called them. certain powers when we reached twenty-two years of age - some could mind-read, some had the capacity to kill with a touch. Me - I got visions - of the future. That's how we discovered the others.'

 

'How did you find out about Azazel's visit to your room? You were only a baby, son?'

At his father's question, Sam felt his burden of guilt ease a little. John hadn't called him a freak, nor unleashed his anger and disgust. He'd merely asked a logical question.

Sam swallowed down the lump in his throat and answered. 'Azazel showed me. He replayed that night in my mind. I was a helpless onlooker. I couldn't do anything to save mom. I had to watch her die on the ceiling without being able to intervene.' Lifting his eyes to meet his father's, the tears welling up, he apologized. 'I'm so sorry.'

:

But John couldn't take any more of his boy's suffering. He pulled him into a hug, and safe against his dad's chest, Sam poured out the entire story, his desolation and hopelessness at Dean's death, his offer of exchanging his soul for his brother's but being laughed off the field, of his quest for revenge that ended up with him falling into Ruby's traitorous hands. And worst of all, the addiction to the blood, all of which culminated in freeing Lucifer.

John didn't allow one word of criticism to pass his lips, though his mind was whirling with the overabundance of information Sam had given him.

Lucifer - Satan himself - actually existed and he'd been freed into the world. Where was he now? John asked himself.

:

He wasn't going to put his son through any more of this, though he was sure Sam had only revealed a small part of his odyssey. He was convinced, however, that it had been cathartic for Sam to get at least some of it off his chest.

When his son made to pull away, John let him. 'You're not mad?' Sam asked in a subdued voice.

:

'Oh yeah! I'm mad. I'm fucking furious, but not with you, Sammy. Never with you! Those hellish bitches are gonna pay for what they've put you through. Every last one of them.'

Sam's smile went straight to John's heart like a fiery arrow. His boy didn't deserve to suffer as he had, even if John had yet to find out just how much Sam had been tortured at the hands of Lucifer himself in the Cage.

:

'Come on. Dean'll be worried that we've come to blows or something. Let's go reassure him. And a steaming cup of hot coffee would be good too.'

'Thanks, Dad,' Sam emoted. He hadn't expected his father to take his confession so lightly, but he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his soul. 'Thanks for listening.'

'I'm your dad, Sam. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.'

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Entering the Bunker, the first thing Sam saw was Dean's anxious face staring up at them from the bottom of the staircase.

'Sam…?'

'I'm fine, Dean,' Sam replied in answer to his brother's unasked question. He looked back at John, a few steps behind. 'Everything's fine.'  
tbc


	10. Chapter 10

'Sammy. You okay,' Dean asked, stepping around his dad to face his sibling.

'I said I was fine, Dean. I told dad some stuff, though…. it.... seems all so long ago now.'

'You tell dad about Lucifer?'

'A bit.'

:

'Hey, I'm right here,' John broke in with a grin. 'If you're gonna discuss me, wait until I'm out of earshot at least.'

'Don't take any notice of Dean,' Sam said. 'He still treats me as if I were four, worries more than any mother. I just can't seem to cure him of it!'

Dean rolled his eyes. 'Don't listen to him, dad. He likes to exaggerate.'

:

John didn't comment, but even if he'd only been with his sons a short time, there was no doubting the strong bond which united them. Combat did that to you, he mused, remembering his own time in the Marines. Bonds formed between soldiers who until a short time before had been perfect strangers; one between brothers was surely even stronger.

'Dad, I don't know how much Sam has told you, but for you to be of any real help, we have to bring you right up to date, and that's not easy cos there's just so much that's happened through the years.'

'We can give Dad, the CliffsNotes version,' Sam offered. 'Then if there's any particular part he wants explained more in depth, we stop.'

'Seems a plan,' John nodded.

'Fine. I'll go brew up some coffee and bring it out here,' Sam added, making his way to the kitchen.

Even if his father had been more than understanding, Sam felt shaken. Opening himself up to John had taken its toll. He needed a moment on his own.

:

'So, give me the details,' John said, taking a chair opposite his oldest.

'Just what did Sam tell you?' Dean asked.

'Well. That Azazel infected him with demon blood, that you died, that he was desperate and it all ended with Sam freeing the devil.'

'And that's it?'

Sam had probably given John only the basics, which would've been hard enough for his little brother to do.

'There were some more details but I'm sure you know them already,' John observed ruefully.

:

John had so many questions to ask. Dean had been to hell. How had he escaped? Had he breached a demon-gate as he himself had? But anxious as he was to know every snippet of information, he reined in his curiosity. He'd let his sons enlighten him at their own speed.

'Well,' Dean began scratching at his head. 'I suppose we gotta start somewhere.  
Angels are a thing. We've covered that, so the archangel Michael won't come as a surprise. And I'm guessing you've heard about the Apocalypse? You know the biblical end of the world?  
The plan was to free Lucifer who was in a prison called the Cage, so the two archangels, Michael who supposedly was the good guy, and Lucifer the devil, could battle it out. Winner takes it all.

Unfortunately, their battleground was the Earth and the backlash of their tussle would eradicate most of humanity and lay waste to all.

'But why would anyone want that?' John asked, frowning.

'Because they're all a bunch of mother-fuckers,' Dean replied.

'Is there a God in all this? He might not want his creation to be exterminated,' John observed.

'Let's just say he was missing at the time, so the angels took their chance to get rid of humans, or 'mud-monkeys' as they call us. But to fight this battle. the angels needed a human vessel, one for Michael and one for Lucifer.

And….. the chosen vessels were... me and Sammy.'

 

'Fuck!' John exclaimed. 'You kidding me, Dean?'

But the expression on his son's face told him it was no joke.

:

'Then what happened?'

'Cut a long story short. We never got to the Apocalypse, thanks to Sam. But if he feels up to it, he can tell you himself. I want go forward.  
Umm - Purgatory exists. It's where monster souls go when they die.'

'Monsters have souls?' John was feeling as if he'd just fallen down the rabbit hole like Alice.

'Yeah. They have. I can assure you!'

'Is there much more, Dean, cos I'm flailing already,' John declared.

:

Dean passed hand over his face, trying to weed out the most salient facts John needed to know.

'Okay. Though Lucifer was locked back up in his Cage, due to a stupid move by an angel, he got free again, and began to fuck things up.'

'So, he's still around?'

'In a manner of speaking, yeah,' Dean sighed. 'And when he was out and about, he decided that becoming a dad, was a good idea. When Lucifer was in a human vessel, he impregnated a woman and a son was born, a Nephilim.

:

Dean looked up as Sam came into the library, three cups of hot coffee in his hands.

'How's it going?' he asked.

:

Dean shrugged, while John glanced up at his youngest. His boy, his Sammy was a vessel for the devil! Why had his family been targeted for all this?

'We've covered the Apocalypse, Purgatory, daddy Lucifer and Jack's birth.

:

'Jack? Who's that?' John asked. His head was spinning like a top now.

'It's the Nephilim. Lucifer's son. '

'And you boys... know... him?'

'Well yeah,' Sam answered. 'Up until a couple of days ago, he was staying here with us.

:

John's eyes grew wide as saucers. He'd run out of ways to react. The information was overwhelming and he knew there must be so much more his boys hadn't explained in full yet.

'You're saying Lucifer's spawn is a good guy?'

Yes…'

'No….'

'Make up your minds, boys!'

'Sam is convinced Jack's essentially good, while I'm not so sure,' Dean clarified.

'He's a good kid,' Sam declared staunchly. 'He just needs a chance and someone to believe in him.'

'Well, we'll see,' Dean declared. 'The jury's still out yet. Anyway, we're getting off track. There's a couple of more things you need to know, dad.'

:

John watched, fascinated, as his sons gazed into each other's eyes, where clearly some sort of silent communication was going on.

°We gonna tell him about mom, Dean? °°I dunno, Sammy. We'll see. °

°He's gonna find out anyway. °

°I know. °

:

So, Dean made the decision for them both.

'There's one more square we have to fill in on the bingo card. But I don't want to go into detail right now. Just take it at face value, dad. We met God and he has a sister called Amara.'

:

Well, If John had needed a titbit to end all titbits, this was it. He sons had been in the presence of the Almighty himself. And the dude had a sister. Whatever was being said here, it couldn't be true! Could it?

Doubt was plainly evident on their dad's face, and the brothers once more exchanged glances. Maybe they given their father too much to deal with all at once. But John Winchester knew how to rise to the occasion.

'You two are either blessed or damned. They're the only two reasons I can imagine that God would want to spend any time with you.'

:

Sam offered him a rueful smile. 'A bit of both, I guess.'

'It's like this dad, Sam and I did God and his sister a favor and as I was the one who let her out of the prison she was held in, she wanted to give me a gift.'

'God's sister was in prison-and you let her out?'

'I know. It's a long story, but we'll keep it for later. Anyhow she wanted to give me what she thought was my heart's desire….and uh…she brought mom back to life.'

::::::::::::::::::

tbc


	11. Chapter 11

From here, the fic doesn't follow season thirteen to the letter, things will evolve somewhat differently.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

A veil of silence fell over the room as John's brain elaborated the meaning of Dean's words. His wife was alive?

Dean too, in the intimacy of his own mind, was playing back a memory from his vast repertoire of painful moments, one in which he'd been thrown back into the past and encountered Azazel for the first time.

He'd found out so many things; been witness to his mom and dad courting, got to meet his grandparents, discovered to his astonishment that Mary was the hunter and dad had been an innocent civilian, a Marine who'd seen action in Vietnam and had thankfully survived, only to be introduced into a world even more horrific.

It had all culminated in one terrible finale when he saw John lying dead in Mary's arms and witnessed her make a deal with Azazel, one where she'd given the yellow-eyed demon free rein to infect baby Sammy.

Although she hadn't known at the time exactly what the deal entailed, as Azazel had been generic on the contents, she'd been raised a hunter; she had to have known it was a dangerous mistake to give a demon carte-blanche. And it had been!

Sammy had Azazel's blood forced down his throat and Mary herself had died in a blazing inferno on the ceiling.

However, Dean hadn't had it in his heart to completely condemn her action; an image of Sam dead in his arms and himself having to make a deal to save his brother's life, always softened him towards what his mom had done. Would he have done the same? Well, he knew the answer to that, he certainly would, as he'd already proven.

The difference was that Dean had known exactly what the exchange was - Sam's life for his own soul - while Mary's deal had given Azazel a free hand to do whatever he wanted - except take a soul!

:

He gave an audible sigh, loud in the stillness of the library. Was there any need to reveal the story now? Did John need to hear what had given origin to their involvement in the supernatural world?

Dean wasn't sure, just as he hadn't been sure back then when he'd decided Sammy should never find out his mom had been the cause of Azazel's visit to his nursery.

In the alternate Earth, John and Mary had never married. Dean wondered if alt Mary had been offered the same deal and refused, letting her fiancé die, or if there had been other reasons why they'd never married.

Fact was, alt Sam and Dean had never been born and in consequence the Apocalypse had taken place. The Winchesters hadn't been there to stop it, no Sam to sacrifice himself for the greater good.

In his heart, Dean was thankful for that. No other Sammy had needed to suffer what his own little brother had gone through. Their own cancellation from the world of the living was what he and Sam had offered when they'd gone back to meet their young parents a second time, asking Mary not to have children. That he and Sam were fine with never being born.

But Mary had already been pregnant with Dean. It had been too late!

:

He glanced at his father. In the fleeting seconds Dean had been flicking through his memories, John had morphed into a living statue, seemingly struck dumb by the news his son had given him.

'Dad,' he heard Sam ask, preoccupied. 'You okay?' The last thing they needed was for John to suffer a heart attack just after they'd got him back!

'Where is she?' John asked, his voice rough and jagged. 'I want to see her.'

'It's not so easy, dad,' Sam replied quietly, going for calm and mellow to soothe the note of ire in John's voice. 'She's not here right now.'

::::::::::::::::.

Dean eyed his brother, a silent conversation taking place once more. As time passed, they seemed to be developing a kind of telepathy which made words superfluous

°You can't be sure she's alive in the alt world, Sam.°

°She is Dean. Believe me. I know how Lucifer thinks. She could be a good bargaining chip. He'll hang onto her for now. °

°Fuck, Sam. I hate that you had to have anything to do with that asshole. That he laid a finger on you…°

°It's okay, Dean. I can live with it. It's all in the past. °

:::

'So, where is she?' John repeated.

'When Jack was born,' Sam explained, 'the influx of power ripped open a slit between our Earth and another world. Mom was with us, as was Lucifer, who'd turned up for the birth, and to protect us she pushed Lucifer through the rift but as he went, he pulled her in with him and the rift then closed before we could react.'

'We're looking for a way to re-open it,' Dean added. 'But to do that we need Jack and he's not here right now.'

'Why haven't you tried to find him, seeing how powerful he is?' John countered.

Dean shrugged. 'We've tried but he could be anywhere.'

'He's a kid,' Sam said. 'He's probably wandered off to for some reason of his own. He'll be back when he's had his fling.'

'I want to see Mary, whatever it takes. So, get on his trail.'

:

The brothers exchanged preoccupied glances. They, too, were anxious to get mom back, but they still remembered how their dad had obsessed over finding his wife's killer when they were kids. They hoped history wouldn't repeat itself.

Sam fidgeted with his pen, cringing inwardly. There was one more important detail to add, and he wasn't looking forward to telling John.

'There's another thing you need to know dad, for everything to square up. Mom …. was …. a hunter. She was brought up in the life.'

::::::::::::::::::::::

John pushed to his feet. He didn't want to hear any more. He just couldn't take it. What Sam had told him turned his world upside-down, even more than his wife being alive. She was a hunter. No! No!

Taking the steps two at a time, he rushed out through the door. He needed air, he felt as if he was drowning in a quagmire, a quicksand pulling hm inextricably down into its dark murky depths.

Mary had known, she'd known all about the supernatural and she'd kept it from him. Maybe if she'd shared, he could've been more alert, better equipped to deal with any danger to his family.

:::::::….

Dean got to his feet, ready to follow his father, but Sam's hand gripping his arm, stopped him. 'Let him go, Dean. He needs time to assimilate all he's been told. He'll be back as soon as he works through it.'

'I don't know, Sam. He might go off like mom did. '

'He won't.'

Sam reassured his sibling, Dean's fear of being abandoned peeping out from behind his well-barricaded façade.

His big brother's green eyes were full of doubt, but Sam understood his father better than Dean did, maybe because he and John were essentially cut from the same cloth.

Probably it was the reason they'd butted heads so much while Sam was growing up. John was a stubborn son of a bitch. He'd be back!

tbc


End file.
